


Tension

by Kleolanda



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleolanda/pseuds/Kleolanda
Summary: ATENTION! First fic in English. Beta reader searching!It seems Sherlock start using again. Mycroft and Greg need to search his flat for drugs. But what will happen, if the flat owners come home earlier, than expected?





	Tension

Sherlock seemed more excited than ever. He was running around the dead body on the floor, like a bloodhound, snuffing and looking out for something. The crime's scene examination was dragging out today although everything was perfectly trivial even for the DI Lestrade's humble opinion.

The blood-stained badge the dead woman was squeezing in her palm was giving an idea of the killer's identity. If it were not for Mycroft's request, that looked like an order, to find a case for his restless brother, Greg would never ask the consulting detective to come here. But this was the only one he had got. (But this was the only direction??). Actually, Lestrade was waiting that Sherlock will make a scene, just entering and casting a glance at the room, that he will accuse him of giving a lower than six case. But the examination went on. Sherlock've been here for a half an hour, but did not tell anything useful.

"So, do you have something?" asked Greg tired of waiting.

"What?" Holmes straightened up looking surprised at Lestrade. "Oh, yes. Everything is rather obvious. It's badge. Just ... there must be a... " he froze looking at the wall and then smiled. "Oh. That's what's wrong. What time is it? "

"Half past one," answered Greg suspiciously, squinting at the consulting detective.

“Perfect. John finishes his shift in a half an hour. I need to go.”

“And… That’s it? You just quit?”

"Oh, come on, Lestrade. Since a crowd of your mates is not here, you already know everything about the killer. But, that's good, that you asked for help. "

"Erm ... Thank you for that," mumbled DI, still looking at Sherlock, who behaved himself truly strange.

“You are welcome, Greg.”

Lestrade even missed the moment, when irrepressible Holmes left the room. What? This is a too strange behavior. Shit. It can't be true. Greg quickly pulled out his phone, dealing the number on a speed deal.

“Mycroft, we’ve a problem” he shouted out, even without saying "Hello". 

“What makes you think so, Detective Inspector?” Mycroft Holmes sounded smug and his voice was full of righteous indignation. Evidently it was very rare that someone was shouting in his ear.

“He examined the flat for half an hour, almost an empty flat, Mycroft. He looked extremely excited. I don’t know if he was more pale than usual, there was no much light… ” 

“Perhaps, it’s not so bad…”

“When he left, he smiled and called me Greg!”

“I got it. Meet me at Backer Street in twenty minutes.”

“Well, I’m working, actually…” Lestrade muttered listening short beeps in the tube and than sighed hard and went to find Sally, to tell her that he has to go for a while.

***  
“What exactly are we doing here?” asked Lestrade, who was standing near the entrance for sometime, when a black car pulled up, and Mycroft stepped out leaneding on his umbrella. Holmes said nothing, just pulled out a key and opened the door. “What are you doing?” Greg walked in, while mister British Government himself held the door. “Wouldn’t it just easier just ring the bell?”

“According to my information, Mrs. Hudson is out of town, and Sherlock and John probably have a lunch in a restaurant nearby the clinic after John’s shift. And no one will stop us from searching the apartment.”

“And what about your monitoring? Cameras? You can’t tell if he started using again or not?”

“My apologies,” Mycroft headed upstairs, entered into the living room and looked around a bit disgruntled, “but my brother destroyed the second set of cameras in the past week. We had no time to renew them.”

“So,” Lestrade walked into the room, closing the door behind him, and approached to the table, looking through the documents and papers, “we are searching for drugs?”

“Yes. I’m afraid that my brother has returned to his old habit. Especially, with your new information this seems to be true.” Mycroft started examining a book shelf. 

“I suppose, you know that not only because of my words?”

“Of course not,” Holmes inspected a human scull. “But two days ago he met his drug dealer. I don’t know he did it to find drugs or just for a new privet case."

“Unbelievable, that there is something you actually didn’t know”

“I haven’t much time to babysit my little brother” Holmes sat down at the table and began to grope under countertop at the same time looking around the room. “All recourses spent for the other things.” 

“Any idea where should I look?” Lestrade looked at Holmes, but he didn’t seems heard, or just simply ignored the question. Greg scratched back of the head, and without waiting for an answer added. “Well, probably, I’ll inspect his bedroom.”

The first thing, that detective inspector noticed, room was almost neat. Actually, this was rather unbelievable speaking of Sherlock. Probably John finally got here. Lestrade smirked and started examine every suspicious places where Holmes could hide this trash. 

***  
After ten minutes Mycroft heard quiet chuckle and went to see, what made detective inspector lugh. He entered in the room and stopped in a doorway, raising surprisingly his eyebrow. Lestrade sat on the bed cross-legged, looking through Sherlock’s old photos. Holmes sighed and stepped closer. He has to admit, he didn’t even knew, that his brother kept them.

“You were so cute,” Greg turned two photographs to Mycroft. At one was Sherlock at the age about six month. And the other pictured him. Mycroft blinked, when he saw the same expression of contemptuous arrogance at his childish face, which he often seen in the mirror. He was about one and a half year here, before his mother discovered her culinary talent and started feed him with big amount sweets and baking. Mycroft winced, when he noticed one of flipped photos. How did it got here? He quickly grabbed it and put in his pocket. That’s for sure, his photos between four and sixteen he didn’t want to show to anybody. 

“Oh come on,” Lestrade smiled slyly and Mycroft felt the blood drained from his face. Greg, looking at these photos, was the last thing he wanted. But, it was too late. “That’s nothing be ashamed of,” detective-inspector reached for his phone. “My cousin has our photos when we were kids on her Facebook page. Ah, here,” he turned his phone and showed a child photo. There was a fat boy, probably even fatter, than Mycroft ever was. “I’m eleven here. Even then I was about seven and a half stone. Really too much. Ate too much, and parents encouraged to do this. And at the age of fifteen just realized that I don’t need it. Started doing sport. But, I can’t say that it helps me now,” he tapped his plump belly. “I can only envy your figure. You know how to be in a shape. If not chasing the criminals, I’ll be fattier than Jabba Hut.” Greg laughed and Holmes thought with anguish, that it seems Lestrade in contrast outgrew the overweight problem. He flinched, remembering the reason why they came here. 

“Have you find something?”

“No,” Greg lowered his legs and stood up. “I looked almost everywhere. But, I found two John’s sweaters. It looks suspicious, as for me.”

Mycroft looked at the sweaters and out of the corner of his eye he saw that Lestrade started packing up photos, and then quickly put one of them in his pocket. Holmes smiled sadly. Of course, Sherlock was a cute child, everyone loves him. He felt something unpleasantly tightened inside, and he begun to examine the room. Apparently they wouldn’t find anything here either.

“Let’s look in a bathroom,” he said dryly to Greg, who placed photos in a drawer.

“And where exactly?” Lestrade bent down, looking under the sink and deciding were or not unscrew the bend.

“Look at…” there was a clap of the door downstairs.

“What’s that?” asked DI with a horror, listening for the approached footsteps and voices. “You said, that they’ll not return home soon!”

“Looks like my information was incorrect,” harshly answered Holmes, trying to decide what to do. If Sherlock find out, that he is here, then he will never go to opera with their parents in two weeks. Not good.

“Shit,” mumbled Lestrade, rushing to the switcher and turn off the light, plunging room into darkness. Voices went quiet, and than resounded louder. 

“What are you doing?” surprisingly whispered Mycroft.

“I don’t know about you but I don’t want they see me…”

“And you decided that we should hide in a bathroom? They’ll find us anyway,” hissed Holmes. Voices came closer. Apparently, Sherlock and John were in the kitchen already.

“Shit,” Lestrade turned around, quickly pushing Mycroft forward.

“What are you…”

“Shs!” Greg hissed and pushed Holmes again, forcing him climb into the tub, and quickly shuted the curtains. 

“I don’t think this is your cleverest idea, inspector…”

“Oh, Mycroft. Could you shut up, for God’s sake.”

“Honestly, Sherlock,” came the muffled John voice. “I don’t understand, you could simply come home earlier. You don’t need to stay at the crime scene for so long, only to wait my shift ends up.”

“Well, did it occur to you that I might missed you?”

“Mmm, but,” John voice sounded just behind the door. Greg cursed quietly and pressed himself against Mycroft’s body, and this made the other man indignantly hissed at him.

“I never wanted you leaving,” heard them Sherlock voice full of some strange tones, and Lestrade froze amazed. Yes, definitely. Everything was fine between young Holmes and John. Sherlock meanwhile continued. “May be, I wanted you spend all day in bed.”

“Well, now I’m finally come home,” answered doctor with a chuckle and they heard kissing sound, and the bathroom door shook as something heavy hit it. Greg twitched, trying to press Mycroft in the wall, and then crouched in tub pulled his sleeve.

“Lay down!”

“What?” Mycroft’s voice sounded like an angry snake. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Lay down! That give us chance of not being discovered,” Lestrade pulled him, and Mycroft rolled his eyes. He was definitely not amused by the idea to lie down in a tub with detective inspector, but his thought that was written on his face was unseen in darkness. So he just sight and crouched, trying to lay down near the man. As he did so, he just realized two things. First - the tub was really tight, and second - Greg was lying huddled next to him. He even could felt the heat of men's body thru the layers of fabric and it was too much. Holmes sensed his cheeks got hot, and wanted to curse himself. Going to the “Les Miserables” even tree times would be preferable, than lie here, in a tight bath with Lestrade, with a high risk to be discovered.

Meanwhile, kissing couple moved to the bedroom. Greg snuffed angrily moved a little, and Mycroft felt that it caused really untimely and shameful reaction. Shit.

“Sherlock, wait,” John’s voice behind the bedroom door was muffled. “What’s got into you?” 

“You’re.”

“Sherlock, wait… Stop… What is that smell?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it formaldehyde? You have been in a morgue?”

“No…”

“Go, clean yourself up.”

“A bit not good,” warm breath on Mycroft's neck made him sensate a pleasure that traveled through his whole body.

"Oh, come on," Sherlock opened the door to the bathroom and threw his  
Clothes to the underwear drawer, and then returned to John.

Greg looked over their hiding place to the wide opened door. Mycroft closed his eyes feelling a wave of embarrassment washing over him because of man’s intensive movements.

“He didn’t shut the door,” whispered Lestrade. “And also, I can see a bed, and they…”

Now it was no more talks but tension and fillings seemed can be touched. Lestrade snuffed at his ear and moans out of the room not calming at all. The heat inside his body reached an insane level. Greg’s face in distant lights from the room looked mysterious and a little fabulous. He wanted to clasp his face, to press lips against… 

“Oh, that’s enough,” Mycroft hissed, tried to push Greg and get up.

“They could hear us…”

“They are a little busy right now. They won’t notice.”

Holmes pulled himself up and got out of the bath. He felt with embarrassment that his pants become too tight and hoped, that jacket will hide it. Lestrade puffed behind, and they tried as quiet as possible leave the bathroom through the second door. 

Mycroft had only one wish now. Get out, away from this bloody flat, away from Lestrade, who with his uncontrollable movements drove him to state he almost lost his control. He quickly passed the kitchen, hearing Lestrade hissed something behind him. He almost reached the stairs when stumbled over umbrella stand. Greg rushed forward trying to catch the falling damn thing before it fell on the floor. Mycroft twitched and tried quickly escape to the staircase, when a strong hand catches his forearm, sending a warm wave through his body. Shit.

“Wait!” Lestrade was breathing heavily and his whisper was sharp and fitful. “What’s wrong with you? You wanted they find us?”

Mycroft shut his eyes, trying to keep remains of his self-control.

“Mycroft?” Lestrade’s voice sounded concerned and Holmes made an attempt to free his arm. But Greg kept it tight. “What’s wrong?”

DI gently bypassed him to look into his face and Mycroft clinched his lips, thinking of what Lestrade see. Pale face with long nose and disgusting red blush spots. And quite concrete erection he can’t hide already.

“Oh,” off course he saw it. “You got a boner…”

Mycroft sighed and finally opened his eyes to see this completely rude man, who was watching him with wide shocked eyes.

“Well, thank you for noticing, I would never guessed,” quipped Holmes, smiling crookedly and unnaturally. “And now, if you excuse me…”

“This is because of your brother? Or John?”

“What?” Mycroft almost choked. “How can you even think of that detective inspector? Do I look like a fancier of incest?” he quickly pulled his arm from gripping and hurried down the stairs but on the half way stopped, turned around and smiled provocatively looking at him. “If you asking, I got a boner because of you. With all yours fidgeting and snuffling. And such stimulation in the darkness, leads to such physiological reactions. All the best.”

“Wait!” Greg grabbed his arm again, forcing to turn around. “You get a boner because of me? Wait, wait. That’s mean only physiological reaction or you find me attractive?” Lestrade smiled, unconsciously touched the hidden photo of young Mycroft Holmes. Gosh, he never thought that he can get the original.

“I don’t find this funny. Excuse me DI that I was compromised myself,” Mycroft turned around, when the pressure to his arm disappeared, and starts down the stairs. How can he so disgrace himself?

Lestrade suddenly realized that if he won’t do anything, this moment would be lost forever. He jumped over two steps, grabbing man’s arm again, and pressing him against a wall.

“You got it the wrong way,” he whispered and finally pressed his lips against Mycroft’s and cuddled to the other man's hip with his own erection. Holmes didn’t responded at once, but then he come to some conclusion and kissed back finally taking control. At last Greg interrupted the kiss to get some air and whispered into man’s neck, trying push his hands under this tight layers of clothing.

“That’s crazy. You drove me insane. I got a boner when we just turned the light off. You don’t know how often I imagined you in a dark. So if it’s only physiological reaction and you don’t want to, you have a chance to walk away right now.”

“I actually have much better idea. John’s room is free now. What’s about going there? Or we have another option. We can make it here, on a stairs. 

“I’m afraid Mrs Hudson, who may come home earlier too, would not survive this sight. John’s room.”

“John’s room,” repeated Mycroft and then he was involved in a new kiss, slowly moving upstairs. After two minutes the door shut.

***  
“Wait,” John frizzed and listened, Sherlock stopped licking his neck. “Did they gone?”

“I’m surprised that you missed it. They breathed and stomped like elephants, not hearing this was almost impossible. Seemed like my brother almost оverturned  
our umbrella stand.” Sherlock got off him and lay on bed behind.

“I can’t believe that we did it.”

“Remember that I don’t need to go to the opera with my parents.”

“But we did it on public,” John smirked. “Are you sure they truly can make this?”

“Pretty sure, yes. I spent today three hours on a one level case, John. This was so boring. Never wanted to kill my brother and Lestrade so much. But, I think everything will be fine. Besides they already occupied your room.”

“They what?” John sat up looking at Sherlock with a surprise. “In my room? But that’s my room. I’m sleepping there.”

“What for?” asked Sherlock started to explore his partner neck with a  
tongue again. “You don’t need the other bedroom, you can sleep with me."

“But if you’ll be a naughty boy?” John leaned back against the pillow. 

“I’ll sleep on a couch,” murmured Sherlock. “And now could you please shut up? We have more important things to do.”


End file.
